


His Favourite Things

by helike



Series: All Is Well [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Gen, Happy Snape Week, Not Quite Epilogue Compliant, Severus Snape Lives, Severus Snape-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 12:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11081271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helike/pseuds/helike
Summary: Some time after the war Severus finds himself surrounded by the things he loves.





	His Favourite Things

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Happy Snape Week event at tumblr. Of course my muse would be the most creative when I have to work, right? >.> Have good fun reading.

There were a few things that Severus loved.

Like tea. Obligatory loose-leaf, kept securely in fancy cans nicely lined on a shelf in his small, cosy kitchen. He enjoyed the deep, strong taste of English Breakfast – mellowed by addition of milk and just a drop of honeydew honey, the musky sweet and mossy aftertaste of Darjeeling, robust and malty Assam and the notes of bergamot in Earl Grey.

Sometimes he would experiment with different blends, but – sooner or later – he always came back to his favourites.

On the days when slight tremors in his hands wouldn’t stop, preventing him from work, he would take out some spice and a ginger root and set out to prepare Masala Chai. It was much more forgiving to slight mistakes and miscalculations in measurements and the size and shape of ingredients than any potion would ever be. As he cut the ginger root and ground cloves, nutmeg, green cardamom pods and bits of cinnamon bark, his tensed muscles would relax. The scent of spices would fill the air, bringing back the memories of long hours spent on potions brewing.

Today was one of these days. The not so bad one, but not overly good one as well. As he gathered the ingredients, he decided to experiment as well, adding allspice and peppercorns. He considered adding anise seeds to the mix, but resigned from the idea in the end. Then he spent long minutes, stirring the mixture of milk and water, to which he had added the spices he had prepared. Perhaps the stirring wasn’t much needed, but it allowed him to relax his tensed muscles and he enjoyed the act itself. He also enjoyed establishing strange stirring patterns, different for every mix, continued until he threw tea leaves into the boiling mixture of his making. It _was_ like magic, but without real magic being involved.

With the tea pot full of chai he went outside. He stood in the back door for a short while, letting his gaze slide over the plants filling his little garden. His chest swelled with pride at what he saw.

He loved gardening. There was nothing better than to feel soil – sometimes warm and dry and easily sliding through his fingers, and sometimes wet and sticking to them instead. His plants and flowers grew beautifully, filling the air with strong aromas and attracting humorous comments about how magical their growth appeared.

Severus would always snort when he heard them. He was nowhere near to being as talented as his mother had been – she had had green fingers after all – but he did took some pride in his small garden.

Through his gardening he also developed a liking for sunny days, warm but not hot, which he spend outside, covering his skin in sunblock and hiding his head in the shadow, but exposing the rest of his body to the sunlight. He let it seep deep into the core of his bones, where eternal cold seemed to rein these days. The aftereffect of the venom, he supposed, quite pleased that he didn’t live in the dungeons anymore. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to put up with their chill, strong drafts and hints of dampness always present in the air, should he live in them ever again.

Here he was now, seated comfortably in a wicker chair in the partly shadowed corner of his little garden, surrounded by flowers and herbs. The sun shone brightly, gently warming his body. The scent of thyme and rosemary filled the air. There was a wicker table next to his chair and another chair on the other side of it. There were two mugs on the table and the big tea pot stood next to them. At the edge of the table a book was lying – the poor, worn out thing, with the cover bent and torn in places and plenty of dog ears.

He stroked the cover fondly.

Severus loved all his book, old and new. The ones covered in leather, with gold letters adorning their surface, sometimes barely legible due to their age. He also loved the ones with thick paper-based covers, sometimes possessing dust covers and sometimes not. His love wasn’t as strong for modern paperbacks, but he still valued and treasured them greatly.

This book, he mused, was special. It was old, given to him when he was but a child, but still one of his favourites. His fingers brushed over the uneven surface of the cover as he reminisced the first time had read it. Much older now, he was able to see the story with different eyes, noticing things of existence which he had had no idea when he was still a child. What he saw now was the story of a lonely boy, who found himself in the place in which he didn’t fit. He saw how this lonely boy found a friend and together, not quite voluntarily at first, they set on discovering magical worlds. How the boy, thoughtlessly, set into motion events that endangered the existence of other worlds, magical and not. And how in the end, the boy managed to do the thing that protected the magical world for a long time. These days the story made him both, bemused and amused. And then forced him to consider the life in general and all its twists. And the life irony as well, of course.

His musings were disrupted by a cat, hopping into his laps and curling into a tight ball in them.

The cat, usually called Monster or the mangy beast, was a half-stray – which at some point had decided to adopt Severus as his human – and looked like he had gone through quite a few battles over his life. He missed half of his left ear, had a scar just under his right eye, which made him look a bit like a pirate or a rogue, and quite a few scars on the rest of his body. He was missing the fur in some places on his back and sides, and had a strange kink at the end of his tail, which suggested an old, badly healed injury.

Severus’ lips curved into a gentle smile as he stroked the cat’s head – just behind his right ear – and the cat purred. He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. The cat’s body vibrated in a way that soothed Severus’ mind and made him feel better in general, pushing away the lingering traces of pain. It was as if the cat was casting some magic on him.

He didn’t hear steps at first. It was the squeaky sound of the garden gate that alerted Severus to his visitor. He startled, but the cat didn’t even shift at the sound.

“You’re late.” Severus schooled his features into a disapproving frown as he stared at the person who visited him. Or rather he tried to look disapproving, as the corners of his mouth twitched.

“Such a warm welcome.” The reply came, said in a warm, soft voice. Severus could almost hear the smile in it. “You never change, I see.”

“Why should I change?” There was a mock hurt in Severus’ voice. “Isn’t my sunny personality _exactly_ what attracts people to me?”

A burst of cheerful laughter was the reply he got.

Severus shifted in the chair, a warm and fuzzy feeling slowly filling his chest.

Here he was, surrounded by his favourite things.

All of them were here.

**Author's Note:**

> The book is a real book in fact. Some people from tumblr may know what it is. Everyone is free to guess.
> 
> Intentionally left open-ended when it comes to the visitor. You may pick whatever person you want :) Cheers.


End file.
